Home lies that way, somewhere, through the fog,
Down a road I did not ask to be set upon
And most of whose forks were chosen for me
By others no less road-bound than I,
Who find their journey no more worthwhile.
I carry too much baggage, but search for more,
Wish for great tasks while failing small ones,
Pass many milestones, but make no progress.
How long it is to home I only guess.
I have not gone this way before and would not
Know it without the fog. I hope it isn't far,
But somehow begin to fear it is.
Still, distractions let me forget the road
And the Duties that keep me surely on it
Without seeking the shortcut through the woods.
Come, walk with me a while since our roads
Are joined as far as the fog will let us see:
A mile, a season, a lifetime, till our
Roads diverge, or one of us gets Home,
Finally through the mist, to the long, long rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem